And Miss Caswell was not a bad choice. Her strengths and virtues were numerous, and they cared for each other. There was little more a man could wish for.
And yet…
Those words kept haunting him, not allowing him any peace. The moment Oliver settled on a course of action, it resurfaced, sending him back to the beginning. It was to the point where he wished to make a choice—any choice—just to be done with it.
“That is a lost cause,” said a voice just to the side of him.
Oliver slanted a look to see Mr. Allen Banfield watching him.
“But then, fishing is a lost cause,” he added, skewering his own abandoned rod with a look. “It is a shame we are too early for any proper hunting. It is infinitely preferable to this.”
“We thought to leave the old men to their lazy pastime,” said Mr. Charles Dosett. “Care to join us?”
“Heathen,” bellowed the elder Mr. Banfield from his place on the other side of the stream.
The fellow’s son kicked at the water, spraying it towards his father, which set the old fellows grumbling about frightening the fish, though the young Mr. Banfield met it with a laugh. Knowing this was a lost cause, Oliver handed his rod to the waiting servant. Allen led the group downstream as the Dosett boys jabbered on about some wager and young Mr. Julius Nelson followed. Mr. Dixon was nowhere to be seen, and Oliver was disappointed at that, for he was the only one guaranteed to provide any interesting conversation.
He’d rather set off on his own, but the thought of being caught by Mrs. Banfield again was enough to keep him shackled to the others. There was protection in numbers.
“Did you hear about Alfred King?” asked Julius, casting a sideways glance towards Allen, but the fellow merely huffed and rolled his eyes, which left Julius deflated.
“That is old news,” said Allen.
“Just because you know all the tittle-tattle, does not mean the rest of us are so similarly blessed,” said Charles with a laugh.
Gentlemen were so quick to condemn ladies as gossips, yet time and again, they proved possessed of equally loose lips. Oliver held in a sigh and wondered if it wasn’t too late to return to fishing; surely spending hours untangling fishing line was a great deal more interesting than this.
Allen waggled his brows at the others and said in a hushed tone, “It appears that old Alfred has broken with Miss Landry.”
The other fellows grimaced, and Charles sucked in a sharp breath and said, “That is rum luck. She was such a pretty thing.”
Oliver held back a roll of his eyes. “You speak of her as though she’s passed away.”
Charles huffed. “No, but it is a waste. I’d thought to court her once upon a time.”
“And you still could. She is free now,” said Oliver, but that was met with gaping silence.
“You think I’d want Alfred’s leavings?” The question was asked with such mock horror that it was clear Charles thought any reply other than “no” was inconceivable.
Peter come around to Oliver’s side and threw an arm around his shoulders, which Oliver shook off. “They’ve been courting for nigh on a year now. What gentleman in their right might would want her now? Even if she remained unspoilt—”
That statement was met with a few jeering chuckles, and Peter spoke over them. “Even if she remained unspoilt, clearly she is unsuitable or Alfred would’ve married the chit. If her dowry were greater, perhaps someone might take her off her father’s hands, but as is, I cannot imagine anyone bothering.”
And with that, the gentlemen began discussing the various merits of the ladies in their acquaintance as they meandered along, but Oliver was lost in the realization that his situation was far more settled than he’d imagined.
Oliver would marry Victoria Caswell. Not simply because his family objected to the Banfields, but because to do anything less would be to subject her to the same scorn poor Miss Landry was receiving. The derision on the gentlemen’s faces would be equally turned to Miss Caswell as it was to Miss Landry.
For better or worse, Oliver had already bound his future to Miss Caswell’s, and there was no undoing it without ruining her.
“The look on your face is the exact reason why I see no purpose in courting,” said Allen.
Oliver stumbled over a rock but kept himself from falling face-first into the water, and the three younger gentlemen brayed at it; if Oliver cared about their opinions, he might’ve been unnerved, but as it was, they were more annoyances than companions. Perhaps it had been a mistake to join them.
“Courtship has merits,” replied Oliver.
“And costs. Do you truly wish to get trapped into marriage?” asked Allen.
“Trapped is hardly the word,” said Oliver.
